


Yeah, Most Probably

by LiterallyLen



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-02 06:16:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17259095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiterallyLen/pseuds/LiterallyLen
Summary: On the cusp of his divorce, Alexander’s baby girl asks him to tell her the stories of all those he's ever loved, so she could try and figure out which was her ma. As he recalls the past, feelings churn to the forefront, and true love always prevails..OR.In which I create a  loosely inspired Au from the movie Definitely, Maybe.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [charlotte_rose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlotte_rose/gifts).



> Hello you gorgeous souls who've actually decided to read this! It means the world to me! And I'd like just to gift this to the beyond wonderful Charlotte_Rose for being such a dedicated darling and hyping up my other Hamliza FIC so sweetly!
> 
> Thank you boo, and all the love!

~New York City, New York: September, 2018

 

“Daddy? Was I a mistake?”

“What the hell!” Alexander jolts from where he’s spilled a whole glass of apple juice on his henley in shock, and looks back down at his baby girl.

The dying afternoon light pans through the blinds, skipping over her bright eyes, and dances in her windswept curls, making it look like she’s got on a shining halo. She’s pretty like her mother, but also’s got all of Alexander’s hard edges carved in the pinch in her lips, and ever appraising stare. Alexander loves her more than what he knows what to do with most days. So he’s shocked as all get out at her out of the blue question.

“Ooo you cursed!” She cackles with an excited little hop, flailing out one of her arms until Alexander finally relents and pulls a quarter out of his pocket, handing it over to a preening Rosalyn.

“At this rate I’ll have a barbie bike by Christmas!”

“Yeah, yeah, just don’t tell your ma hah?” Alexander grouses, dabbing his chest with a paper towel. He ultimately reasons that it’s hopeless, and sheds it off before grabbing a wife beater from the pile of unfolded laundry in the living room, throwing his now soiled shirt into the hamper.

“Yo Rosie, get you’re tush back in here.”

All Alexander hears in return is a gargle of incomprehensible jabber, but thinks it’s something close to “I’m brushing my teeth Daddy!” He just rolls his eyes, but can’t help the impossibly fond grin that turns up the corners of his mouth.

“What’s up?”

“What’s up with me? What’s up with you bug?”

She just hikes up her brows in a silent question, brown eyes staring back up at brown

“What kinda question is that? Whether you were a mistake or not?”

Rosalyn just shrugs her dainty shoulders, fingers toying with the tips of her damp hair.

“’S what Theo is.”

“Wait— What?” Now Alexander’s really confused.

“’S true!” Rosalyn insists, looking like for all the world she’ll start stomping her feet and crossing her arms in indignation. “She told me so when we were learning about why we’re s’pose to use condoms in class!”

“Wait!” he raises a hand in silence. “When and why are you learning about condoms when you’re in elementary school,” he balks.

“Daddy, the fifth grade is middle school, member you were taking pictures at my graduation.”

“’S like the first week of school!” Alexander argues back, but Rosalyn just rolls her eyes and waves him away— She’s only one of two people in the world who could ever make him back down from whatever point he’s trying to prove, and he hates how that familiar pang of hurt hits his chest at that thought.

“Unimportant,” Rosalyn huffs. “But when Theo asked her daddy bout it Mr. Burr told her that she’s his favorite little accident!”

“Hey, what’d I tell you about listening to anything Burr says?”

“That I shouldn’t cause Mr. Burr is a spineless coward who couldn’t make a decision to save his life, and he’s lucky cause Dr Theodosia is smart enough for the both of them.”

“There’s my baby girl,” Alexander rubs a hand in her disheveled locks before padding off to the kitchen, pulling out the casserole Mrs. Washington had brought him earlier that morning. Because “I gotta make sure my little heathen, and my little heathen’s baby is eating!”

Alexander kind of smiles to himself at the memory. He’s never known what a parent’s love is suppose to be— Not truly— James having bounced on his little family the moment he could on a stolen Harley like the asshole that he is, without so much as a goodbye tossed Alexander’s way. And his darling mother, Rachel, dyed before she could ever see him come of age.

He’s beyond thankful that Martha Washington is probably one of the most innately compassionate, effortlessly kind women on this entire, fucked up planet, and she found something within Alexander to love, and smother with warmth. A love that’s probably better than even James at his best could’ve offered.

But mostly, Alexander’s thankful that his baby girl— his pride and joy— will never know the missing love of a parent.

“No but Daddy! “s true! Dr Theodosia even told Theo that she was an accident! But she still loves her to the moon and back! Just like how you and mommy love me!”

Alexander hands her the spatula he just got finished using, watches as Rosalyn sets it in the dishwasher while he reheats their supper.  
“Alright, so there’s no problem then. Theo’s still loved, just as much as anyone else who wasn’t an accident. So why do you care Bug?”

“Ugh, Daddy! That’s not my question!” He cocks a brow at her, watches amusedly as she begins pacing the length of their kitchen, lecturing at him just like every other woman in his crazy life. “’S just, how can you have a whole entire baby by accident! I mean what’d Mr Burr and Dr Theodosia do to get one by accident!” She’s starting to get a little V in-between her brows, cheeks infused red with frustration, and seriously Alexander challenges anyone to look at that little face— angry over not understanding something way above her pay raise— and not keel over in laughter at the sight.

“Daddy!” The skewer she gives him right then is the epitome of if looks can kill, and that just makes Alexander cackle even harder. “This is so not funny! I’m just trying to understand! And don’t even give me any of that garbage about the Bird and the egg!” Alexander clamps his mouth shut, effectively reprimanded. “You and mom must think I’m real stupid! I mean we’re mammals! We don’t hatch from eggs Daddy!”

“Ah, ah, ah. Not true Bug, platypi hatch from eggs and they’re still mammals.”

She eyes the finger he’s wagging at her with pure contempt.

“Platypuses, the plural of a platypus is just Platypuses.”

“You’re adopting you’re uncle Jack’s smart mouth, ya know that?” Alexander tells her, pulling out their plates from the microwave, and begins to pour them some drinks. (Slow this time, he’s really not in the mood to do any more laundry than what’s absolutely necessary).

“Everyone says that you’ve got the worst one of those cause you’ve gotta prove that you’re the most smartest person in any room,” Rosalyn says with big, owlish eyes.

“Well everyone’s wrong,” Alexander sniffs.

“You still haven’t answered my question Daddy,” she prods, spearing a chunk of her meal with a little more force than necessary. Yeah she’s definitely all him on the inside, and Alexander can’t help but revel in that.

“How about we make a deal to put this little conversation on a raincheck till you’re mom’s around, and you’re like twenty years older.”

“Five years older.”

“Twenty.”

“Ten.”

“Fifteen.”

“Fine!”

“Fine,” he hands her a napkin, and she thanks him. Gleefully noting that he’s got a good amount suck in his beard.

“Oh crap.”

“Ooo! That’s another one daddy! Pay up!”

“Oh man, are you serious? You can’t give me a freebie?”

“Hah,” she scoffs with a lofty flip of the hair. “Mr. Jefferson says that someone cheating you outta your doe is the worst offense.”

“Yeah, well Mr. Jefferson is a capitalist, big wig who I hate that you’ve even spent a moment of your time with. You really wanna end up like that Bug?”

Rosalyn’s eyes go wide, lips parted in utter astonishment. “Don’t talk about Mr. Jefferson like that Daddy! Nana Washington says that talking ill of people is bad for your soul, and she’s the smartest lady on this whole planet.”

“Right… I forgot you love her more than me.”

“Not more, just different,” she smiles toothily, readily excepting the shiny new quarter Alexander handed over. “Ya know, just like how you and Mommy love each other differently now… not any less. Just different… right?”

There’s a sudden static in the air— a strange stillness that Alexander can feel in his core. The same exact sensation He always gets whenever Rosalyn speaks of the divorce, sounding defeatist and hopeful all at once. It’s like he can feel it when his heart plunges somewhere deep in his chest, not only sad over their separation , but the way it’s so obviously hurting his baby girl— his one and only. Alexander would do just about anything to get that brilliant, megawatt smile back on her lovely, little face.

“Yeah Bug, just different.”

She nods, giving him a thin little smile. Trying to disguise her hurt just like Alexander has always done. And he hates that Rosalyn has hurt to hide now, hates that he’s one of the people that it’s stemmed out of— no matter how reluctantly.

“C’mon Bug,” let’s wash up before bed. You’re gonna have to brush your teeth again.”

“Ugh, daddy,” she roles back her entire head, but eventually hops off her stool and washes off her dinner plate before putting it away.

 

.-

 

“So, was I a mistake too?”

Alexander starts, glancing down at Rosalyn who’s fresh mouthed once more, and peering up at him through her bangs, with a pink, fluffy unicorn clutched tight to her chest. “Am I like Theo I mean?”

“Oh, no way Bug. You were completely on purpose. You’re Ma was crazy about finally having you.” Her eyes brighten, just so.

“Cool, I’m glad I’m not an accident. Or else I’d be the same as Ben Friedman peeing on himself.”

Alexander huffs out a little laugh, pulling her up into his arms.

“You’re a weird little kid, you know that?”

“Well you raised me Daddy. You got some ‘splainin’ to do!”

Alexander just cocks a brow at her reference, to which she just grins with absolute glee.

“No more watching tv with Lafayette”he tells her deadpanned.

“Sucks to you daddy, it was with Aunt Adrien, Uncle Gil was at work last time they babysat.”

He roles his eyes before plunging his fingers into her ribs, tickling her until she screams uncle three times over.

“Not fair daddy! You’re bigger than me! I’m just a wittle girl.”

He shakes his head at her exasperated pout, pulling out a blanket from her closet, and wrapping her up for bed.

“Yeah well how about you actually finish all your vegetables on your plate, and then you’ll grow bigger and stronger than even me?”

Rosalyn just shutters with a decidedly grossed out expression spread across her delicate features.

“Nope, no way, the price is to high! Besides mommy says that girls are s’pose to be pretty like me!”

“Ya know Bug, modesty is a good color on you.”

With just a sage sort of nod, Rosalyn thanks him. , the sarcasm going right over her perfect, little head.

“Thanks Daddy.”

“Anytime Bug,” he kisses her forehead before stretching up and heading towards the colossal bookshelf on the left wall. “So what you in the mood for tonight? Some Prisoner of Azkaban? Or what about a little Percy Jackson action?”

Alexander gets concerned when Rosalyn doesn’t answer him back with an enthusiastic decision straight away. Story time is probably the girl’s favorite part of the day after all.

Pivoting on his heels, Alexander finds a very downtrodden looking Rosalyn, gaze transfixed on the open window and towards the starlit skyline, not meeting his eyes.

“Hey Bug? What’s up with the long face?” He tugs on one of her plaited pigtails before collapsing besides her on the twin sized mattress.

“Daddy, how’d you and mommy meat? You guys never told me.”

Alexander is only a bit taken aback at the non sequitur, but was also kind of expecting it. After all, It only makes sense that Rosalyn’s trying to grasp onto the last vestiges of the relationship that was the bedrock of her life up until this point. Until they’re divorce.

He feels a whole new wave of guilt churning against his chest.

“C’mon Rosie, you know. Boy meets girl. Girl meets boy. And then all the shi—shtuff… All the stuff that follows.”

She eyes him scoldingly for the near slip up, but then just drops her gaze back down. As if she doesn’t have it in her to even play along with their little game.

And that, that kills Alexander.

“Yuh, but I don’t know any of the romantic stuff! Like your first date! Or you’re first kiss! Ooo, or When you guys knew that you loved each other more than anyone else!” She deflates again, probably remembering that they don’t love each other in that way any longer, if they ever had.

“You really wanna know all that boring stuff?” Alexander snorts, pulling her close into a his embrace.

“Course I do! Like, erm. How many people did you date besides mommy?” She asks easily, having no reaction at all when he and her mother had sat her down one day and explained how Alexander identified as a Bisexual man, and there was absolutely nothing wrong with that, and if she liked someone who was a girl or identified as anything other than a sis, straight, female, , that there was absolutely nothing wrong with that either. (“Well yah duh daddy, who cares who’s in love with who, or what gender someone is. As long as they’re nice.” “I really love you kiddo, you know that?” “Thanks, can I go play at Theo’s now.”)

“Date? Like, you mean go out with multiple times?” Alexander clarifies.

“Ah, duh! What else would I mean daddy!”

Alexander hates how his cheeks flush before averting his gaze with a breathy sort of chuckle, feeling Rosalyn’s eyes on him all the while.

“Oh ah nothing kid. Nothing at all. Nothing you ever have to worry about. Ever!”

Her lips twist up in severe irritation, but Rosalyn thankfully doesn’t press him on the subject. Just nudges him to answer her question.

“Ah, I’ve only had a couple other serious people besides your ma baby girl.”

“Really?”

“Mmhmm, and you’re mom has only had two other fellas besides me.”

Rosalyn worries on her lip, eyes darting around her room before catching sight of a little notebook on her desk. The most animated he’s seen her for the past hour, Rosalyn leaps from her pink duvet, and grabs the notebook and a marker before snuggling back in her sheets besides him.

“Did you love any of them? Anyone other than mommy?”

“Hey? What’s with the third degree here Bug?”

“I’ve found a new idea for bedtime stories,” she shrugs with one of her shoulders, while her other hand is flying across the sheet of paper.

“Something I’ll like? Cause I bet not.”

The smear she gives Alexander right then is all Angelica, equal parts mischief and a self assurance that she’ll get her way.

Alexander hates that she’s probably right— What can he say? His baby girl’s got him wrapped around her littlest finger. And the worst part is that he really doesn’t mind.

“Alright, so why don’t ya tell me now so I can come up with an excuse not to do it.”

“Daddy!”

“Bug!”

She huffs, and he blows her a raspberry.

“You are such a boy!”

“Well you are such a girl, with just so many cooties.”

She collapses back in sheer exhaustion over his admittedly lame joke.

“C’mon daddy! Please!”

“Fine, fine Bug. I’ll listen.”

She beams up at him, grabbing the marker once more, and starts to doodle on the paper again, determination etched into her features.

“Let’s make a new bet!” Alexander cocks a brow in curiosity. “If I win, you gotta buy me a Malibu Barbie, with her dream house, and a bicycle to match!”

“Right… This sounds like a pretty bum deal so far Bug.”

“Cause you gotta let me finish!”

Alexander raises his hands in concession, gesturing for her to carry on.

“And if you win,” she jabs her marker at him. “I’ll give you back all the money from you’re swear jar, and do a whole month of free chores!”

“Is that right?” Alexander smirks at her business savvy attitude, Rachel would be so totally proud of her little grand baby.

“Yes, of course.” She sniffs. “Now deal or no deal?”

“Hold your little horses little mis, I don’t even know what the bet’s about,” Alexander points out.

“Oh shoot,” she snaps her fingers like a parody from an old time movie. “I was hoping you’d forget about that.”

“Not a chance,” he chuckles, flicking her on the back of the head playfully.

“Ugh, fine. I wanna find out you and mommy’s love story! But like a scavenger hunt!”

“Excuse me?”

“You said you dated only a couple people besides mommy right?” Alexander nods, cautious. “Well, I wanna hear all their stories, and from their I’ll figure out which is mommy!”

He gives her a one eyed squint, nervous about how this could turn so easily on him.

“And what if you get it wrong?”

Rosalyn just shrugs.

“Then you win, and you’ve got a month of free chores outta me. But if I guess before the end, then I win! And I get an early Christmas!”

Alexander should probably decline. He should tell her no, that she has no business knowing so much of his past— especially at such a young age. It should be easy.

But just as he’s parting his lips to say as much, he catches the hope twinkling in her big, expectant eyes. He realizes this is as much for her closure over his and her mother’s divorce over anything else. Knows that he’s got to do this for her, for his baby girl.

With an emphasized exhale from his nostrils, he begrudgingly agrees.

“Fine.”

Rosalyn’s whole entire face gapes in utter shock, but then she’s squealing with glee and bouncing on her duvet with excitement.

“Hold it Bug, some ground rules.” She settles down at that, but is still smiling like a total lune. “First, I’ll be changing everyone’s name, so you have no hints to who any of the people are.”

“Deal!”

“Second, you need to tell me if you want to stop. Or if this isn’t fun anymore. We’ll stop right there, and we’ll call it a draw. capisce?”

A still positively beaming Rosalyn smacks their hands together to shake, gleefully snatching up her favorite stuffed unicorn and snuggling into the blankets and tugging on Alexander’s arm.

“C’mon Daddy! Let’s start tonight! Tell me the first part of the story!”

He sighs, but ultimately relents, sliding back up against the headboard of the white, wooden bed frame.

“Fine, but only ten minutes Bug. Then you’ve gotta go to bed. You’ve got school early tomorrow morning.”

“M’kay! Fine! Just start will you!” She pleads, and Alexander just chuckles, taking extra long to get comfortable just to tease her.

“Daddy!”

“Okay, okay! Now where should we start.”

Alexander thumbs his chin, really trying to figure out where to begin the story Rosalyn is begging to hear.

Ultimately he decides that there’s no better place than the beginning of it all.

“Alright Bug, we’re gonna have to go back in time. Way back at the turn of the century, in DC of all places.”

 

.-


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The letter came in a manilla envelope, a big clunk of a thing. The writing on it’s face is flippant, but imposing— written in a thick ink that stinks of wealth and importance. 
> 
> From The Desk of New York State Congressman George Washington. 
> 
> Alexander feels the fear squirming beneath his skin, and burrowing somewhere in his ribs— making his chest beat an unbalanced, rapid staccato,

Small Virginian suburb of Washington DC: March, 2000.

 

~*~

 

Alexander remembers his mother’s face, remembers her laughter, remembers the way her smile made her eyes glitter and how it was almost always accompanied with a warm embrace. He remembers how her low, melodic voice would croon to him how she thinks Alexander to be the most spectacular boy in the world, how she sees him doing such great, fantastical things once he’s grown.

Alexander members how special and powerful that made him feel. How despite the fact he was a too skinny, gangly limbed, bookish kid who would more often than not get the snot beaten out of him after starting a fight with one of the toad faced, small minded pricks from school— the exact antithesis to his older brother’s easy athleticism and charming confidence— that whenever Alexander’s mother told him that he’d accomplish greater feats than even the legends, he wanted to believe her. Alexander indulged himself in falling in that folly, far away from the bullies at school, and the dingy, rundown apartment they live in on the streets, and the hallow aching in his chest that could only come about from the absent love of his flippant, unattached father. His mothers words always gave Alexander reprieve to forget all the hardships of his young life, and made him believe in so much more.

After her death, when their dad left and he and James were separated into different foster homes and everything hurt— when it felt like even breathing hurt some days— Alexander did everything he could not to forget. He remembered his mothers smile, remembers that she was real and she expected the world of him. So Alexander shook off his self doubt, and he worked. He worked everyday to someday accomplish what she foresaw. He took his natural intuition and forged it into brilliance far beyond his years. He made himself stand out in the eyes of a well esteemed New York businessman— never allowed himself to be adopted but readily excepted the Stevens’ generosity. He was excepted into one of the finest universities in the planet, and he always, always, screamed to be heard. He espoused his convictions with well plotted facts and undeniable credence. He became the chief editor at their school’s main paper, and never kept a tight lip— writing about issues that surpassed merely George Town University’s boarders. And now, after graduating a year early, he works as a fact editor for the Washington Sun. He’s carved out his own little corner in the galaxy, and he’s fucking proud of it God damn it.

Alexander made his name and voice impossible to be unaware of, whether out of contempt or reverence, people felt something towards him. Alexander thinks of his mother’s quick little smile, tooting at him that a man that does not evoke any emotion from someone is a man deserving to be forgotten. Alexander wonders if Rachel heard his name being screamed about in the streets, wonders if she would’ve been proud at the differences he’s trying to make.

Alexander wonders when it’ll feel like he ever made her proud.

Wonders if he’ll ever feel satisfied with what he’s done.

 

~*~

 

The letter came in a manilla envelope, a big clunk of a thing. The writing on it’s face is flippant, but imposing— written in a thick ink that stinks of wealth and importance. 

From The Desk of New York State Congressman George Washington. 

Alexander feels the fear squirming beneath his skin, and burrowing somewhere in his ribs— making his chest beat an unbalanced, rapid staccato, and his fingers quiver as he gently rips open the lip. He mindlessly wonders why he’s compelled to think of the last time he felt this way when tearing open a letter— Thinks back to the way his Pa had abandoned in him after his mother’s death to follow his flighty dreams of making it big in Hollywood after one of his jackass friends told’m that he thinks James could really be something. Alexander thinks of his eighteenth birthday when he was gifted some shitty postcard of some mountains with James’ mangled looking signature on the bottom. Alexander had just flipped it over to find James’ messy, almost vindictive looking scrawl—Like his hand was still angry of all the bullshit he was dealt for this lifetime, and decided to take it out on any slip of paper he could find— telling him to make something out of himself.

Father of the fucking year, truly.

Alexander still has that postcard, keeps it in a small, surreptitious box dedicated to his childhood on his home island that he keeps safely tucked away from the sight of any onlookers. reading that postcard from his father had felt like something within him had died… But now, opening this letter, this feels like something within him coming to life— like all the potential in the universe hummed just beneath his finger tips.

Though both made him want to crawl back into his mother’s warm embrace.

He scans the first few sentences of the thick packet, the words of congratulations. The compliments to his talent with a pen. The offer of a position in the fledgling staff of Congressman Washington’s campaign team. 

Alexander’s already delicate stomach suddenly began to churn, he felt like he would go sick with disbelief. 

He’s always known he was smart, quick witted, someone who could intrigue folks to him like moths to a flame without any effort exerted on his part, but this… This is a real fucking shot at making it, and he suddenly felt so unworthy. 

Alexander stuffs the letter back into it’s envelope and shoves it deep in his desk, somewhere no one would be able to find. Shutting away the possibilities while silently apologizing to his mother.

~*~

 

“Do you guys think Luke like felt it when he kissed Leia?” Ned asks before plunging his hand back into the bowl of popcorn in his lap, the score of the Empire Strikes Back playing in the background.

“Felt it?” Alexander asks with a cocked brow from where he’s lounging on the couch, Cornelia slinked on top of him leisurely. 

“Yeah, like felt it that she’s actually his sister?”

“Dude, I could honestly tell you that I’ve never even thought of the possibility.”

“Neli, how bout you? You’ve got a brother, if you were blind folded and he was forced to—“

“No, no, just stop there Ned, or I swear to God I’ll bite you in the face and make you bleed.”

“Okay, okay! Yeesh, just curious.” 

“Get some better hobbies instead of thinking of the ancestral relationship between two fictional characters bro,” Alexander barbs, narrowly avoiding the pillow his oldest friend— practical brother— lodges at his head.

“Medical school is a long and strenuous affair you prick, I can’t help where my mind wanders!”

“Yeah Alex, don’t tout it, I gotta admit that the Insta edits of the Winchester bros is quite sexy.”

“Babe, don’t agree with Ned, it’s Ned.”

Cornelia laughs and Ned flips him the bird.

“I’ll take that as my queue to leave.”

“You know I love you dumb ass.”

“Gotta say my man, the feeling is not mutual,” he faux pouts, to which Alexander just laughs again. “Besides, I’ve gotta meet pops for some dinner he’s having with one of his surgeon buddies, trying to get my name in their heads for when I start residency.”

“Ah, the woes of the wealthy and connected,” Cornelia pretends to wallow. 

“Sorry Nel, did I get you confused for a different daughter of twenty time reelected congressmen Lotts?”

“Daddy’s only been reelected five times,” Cornelia just sniffs moodily.

“I’m surrounded by privileged asses,” Alexander laments, only slightly pissy. earning him a cuff on the head from Cornelia. 

“Hey now, remember that one of those privileged asses is your beautiful girlfriend.”

Alex smiles down at her, just a bit wolfish, a look that never fails to make her blush to the ends of her ears. 

“Yeah, yeah they are,” he leans forward to press his lips to hers, feels it when she perks up, wraps her arms around his neck and squeezes closer. Alexander can hear it when Ned curses at them both in farewell before slamming the door of Alexander’s shitty apartment shut. He, in turn, slides a finger past the waistband of Cornelia’s jeans and revels in how she greedily pulls him closer.

 

~*~

 

Half an hour later finds her clad in only one of his oversized sweatshirts, his stomach rumbling, and the pair of them feeling comfortably sated. 

“DOn’t let it go to your head, but you are really good at that.”

Alexander preens, watches her tie her hair into a messy topknot.

“What can I say, I’m gifted.”

She punches him hard enough so that the smirk playing on the edges of his lips is replaced by a grimace.

“Shame on me, should’ve known you are physically incapable of not gloating.” She scrambles up and struts to his kitchen. “I’m hungry, and thirsty.”

“Ditto, though I rather thought I quenched that thirst for you.”

She follies him another nasty glare, to which Alexander just blinks up at her owlishly.

“Where’s your raisins?”

“AH, I dunno, probably my bed.”

“Why the hell would it be in your bed room?”

“Neli, babe, you ask as if I ever know where i’m tossing shit in this place. I mean look at it, it’s a mess.”

She rolls her eyes like she’s asking for help from the lord above, but Alexander can see the smile threatening to break through.

“You are something else Alexander Hamilton, you know that?”

He watches her walk to his room, feels a random burst of fondness for this lovely girl. Save for the Stevens’ family, Alexander thinks that Cornelia Lotts, beautiful, wealthy, well liked Cornelia Lotts, is the only person looking out for him, is the only one who’s not obligated by law. He feels like, bit by bit, he could trust her with pieces of himself, like he’s done with Ned. 

After all she’s the girl who snuck him into the basement of her home in the middle of the night during the winter of his Freshman year in George Town while he was utterly (and perhaps stupidly) insistent that he never needed to except a dime from Robert Stevens, that he’d already done enough for him. Even if that meant he lived in a rat whole of an apartment and couldn’t afford for any type of heat— Which of course was pure Hell when in the East Coast. 

Cornelia’s the girl who stood strong against her parents once they discovered him hiding out in their laundry room for the break, convincing them that he deserves their help, that she won’t let him become a dirtbag dropout. That he’s too brilliant for that.

“Buttercup, he’s already a dirtbag! What’d be so bad if he just completed the other half of his fate?”

“Daddy, you’ve always taught me to do the right thing. This is the right thing!” Cornelia’s eyes— pale green in the dark— shone with emotion, and Alexander knew right then that he didn’t deserve her dedication, but was still beyond grateful that he had it.

He stayed in their basement for the rest of the break, and was gifted an anonymous, weeks late Christmas gift of three portable heaters until he found a more agreeable living situation.

Alexander appreciates how she’s never even mentioned it, not once. Appreciates that she still looks at him as if he’d single handedly placed all the stars in the sky, and hung the moon while he was at it. Appreciates how Cornelia could always say that she loves him without a flinch, and can tell Alexander that he’s gonna be something great, like it wasn’t a lie. 

But mostly he appreciates that she doesn’t hate him for never really being able to say those words back to her. Not right after sex, when they’re tangled in limbs and sheets, and the moonlight is refracting in her eyes like a shimmering prism. Or when her head rests on his shoulder, bathing in the sweltering, summer sun, her lemon scented hair tickling his nostrils and the tip of her nail tracing random designs on his slick skin

Cornelia’s a complete catch, seriously pretty, and smart too! She could do a whole lot better than some orphan smart mouth that’s for fucking sure. He should be beyond grateful that she ever gave him the time of day during the dumb as fuck Homecoming parade freshman year, back when she was a fresh faced sheltered girl looking for a guy to dote on her, but instead fell for a sharp tongued, bright eyed, impetuous kid from the Caribbean set out to make something of his name. 

Alexander likes Cornelia, likes her a whole lot. Likes how she can drink him under the table, that she’s low key in any displays of affection, but can still kiss like nobody’s business. Likes that when she tells him he’s gonna make something of himself, he actually believes it. Alexander really does like her, and just supposes that there’s something irrecoverably wrong with him. That there’s something fucked in his DNA that prevents him from ever being able to feel that way— or at the very least be able to say he does. For hell’s sake, Alexander’s never heard Rachel or James even allude to loving each other. That they even care for one another, in any real capacity… Not unless one or both of them were completely hammered. So yeah, that’s probably it. Alexander’s just predisposed with the incapability of ever uttering those three little words, never meant to build a home for himself in anyone or any place.

But then again, that’s probably a load of rubbish

At least for now he can have this. He can have her and Ned and his shitty job and he doesn’t need to think of that letter— of the possibilities that rung from it.

 

~*~

 

“What’s that?” Cornelia saunters over to Alexander’s tiny desk at The SUn’s headquarters, clad in a delicious looking jumper, and a mug of steamy coco in each of her hands. She’s got one of her brows kinked, like she expects that Alexander’ll be sick at any moment, and wants to strategically protect her new, pretty moccasins, and he doesn’t blame her.

The offices are nearly completely empty, people either on break or out researching a story, he was alone and didn’t even expect for Cornelia to pop in for a visit, it’s why he has out the letter— the one offering him a job as George Washington’s speech writer… He can’t help himself, His eyes frantically scan, and rescan the letter clutched in his grasp, beneath where he’s got it hidden from view, trying to decide whether he doesn’t believe the contents, or doesn’t want to believe them, or wants to believe them so desperately that he’s about to hurl all over again.

In any scenario, Cornelia’s moccasins are goners. 

“Alex?” She presses, snatching another chair and taking a seat besides him while disregarding their drinks to the side. “What’s going on?”

“Ah, erm it’s my boss.”

Her face brightens ten fold. 

“Mr Thomson is offering you a full time position isn’t he? Oh my gosh i knew it!” She crows, tangling her arms around him and peppering kisses on the side of his face. “Oh congratulations Alex! I’m so proud of you!” 

“Wait— Neli, no.”

She stutters back, brows furrowed and lips pinched. “What do you mean?”

Alexander decides to just bite the bullet, their’s no point in hiding it anymore, it’s not as if he’ll ever gather the nerve to actually ever email them back. So instead of explaining it— which he seriously doubts he could do while keeping up his facade of calm— he just gives a shake to the thick packet in his hands. This girl’s got his best interest at heart, if nothing else, Alexander could believe that. It’s why he doesn’t put up a fight when she pulls the papers from his grasp, and reads over them with her own eyes.

Alexander breathes in slow, doesn’t let himself obsess over the gargle of words that threaten to teeter his world off orbit. Words that could quite possibly alter everything he’s ever believed about himself, everything he’s ever known.

No, he can’t think of any of that or else he’ll start hyperventilating like a fucking spaz— and then the black blotches in his vision will return, and he’ll probably pass out before he could actually make a decision. And just no. No to all of that.

Instead, Alexander focusses on how Cornelia’s finger traces the lines she’s reading. How the cascading snowflakes from above fleck in her curling hair from when she was outside, making it look like a fluffy cloud of honey. He thumbs the consolation of stars she’d gotten tattooed on the underside of her wrist while they were drunk off their asses during spring break of last year. 

He thinks that Cornelia’s always trying to do things like that. Things that are brave, and bold, and splendid in their fierceness. Actions that are as bright and beautiful as her. But he also knows that behind that artifice of trying to be larger than life, Cornelia strives for the simplicities of living, for a quiet existence where she could indulge in the lovely things that money could by, and the same sort of peace for her future paralleled by her past. She has always loved the security of a small town— strived for the ideal of having a nuclear family of her own one day. Has always basked in the unconditional love and money her parents had showered her with since birth, Something Alexander’s never experienced himself… Something he couldn’t even begin to fathom.

He doesn’t notice when Cornelia finishes reading the letter. Her pretty pale eyes flicker up to him, face slack and fist clenched so tight that her knuckles have faded white. 

She’s scared. 

“What does this mean?”

Alexander just shrugs, not knowing himself, not really— There’s still a part of him that yearns to except the offer and pounce into the unknown, but most of him doesn’t think he can.

“They’ve offered you a job— A real, amazing job.” She says, disbelieving.

“I know.”

“Does Ned know?”

“No.”

“Why not! This was sent a week ago!”

“I know,” Alexander says again, rote, and unsure.

“Alex, I never thought I’d ever have to say this to you, but will you just fucking speak!”

He cringes, Cornelia never swears, it’s not what she does. She’s a good girl. She grew up in church and has only ever had one boyfriend before promptly dumping him for Alexander.

He ducks his head, cheeks burning red, but he can feel her gaze boring into him all the while. 

“What, does, this, mean,” She repeats, her words are clipped and untethered, a tone of voice he knows she only gets when she’s mad and terrified. She’s never needed to protect her emotions from anyone, they’ve never been weaponized against her he supposes.

“I don’t know— I guess it means they want me to work for them, as a speech writer.”

“You’re barely twenty-one, this has got to be unprecedented, a once in a life time opportunity.”

Alexander hates himself when he feels his shoulders shrug again. 

“Alex!”

“I’m a remarkable guy, you already knew that.”

Cornelia doesn’t laugh, but in all fairness, Alexander didn’t really expect her to.

“This could change your whole life,” She says slow, as if this effects her directly. As if this even touches her perfect, little bubble.

Fuck, Alexander hates doing that. Hates that he’s going after her when she’s one of the only people who’s actually still here, with him. Hates that James isn’t here for him to yell at.

“Alex, this’s huge, it’s New York state! This is a governorship on the line, can you even grasp this!” She says in an almost shrill, lips wobbling and eyes shining with unshed tears. “This’s what you’ve always wanted, to get into politics and make a difference!”

He evades his gaze, unable to face the truth of her words.

“Nel,” he leans forward, unclasping their interlocked hands. “Cool it, alright.” There are a million thoughts swarming in his mind, but he Doesn’t feel like he even can piece together any semblance of words that’d make sense.

It’s all just… too much.

“But Alex!“

“Cornelia, seriously!”

It’s like he can see it when her words die on her lips, and her shoulders collapse into themselves. THey’re at a total standstill, and Alex has no idea how to escape it without letting off a landmine that’d destroy everything he’s built for himself.

“Alex,” she eventually manages to Croke out. ,”Can you just look at me! Give me a hint that you actually fucking feel something!”

He doesn’t.

“Alex, please. I need to know what’s going on in your head. As your girlfriend, okay! I need to know as the man who I know I want to spend the rest of my life with, I just-“

“Who the hell ever said that!” Alexander has always known what points to poke to make someone mad, make them weak. Knows just how to make someone hate him. He hates that he’s doing that to her now. Cornelia's amazing, but nothing feels right anymore. Everything feels twisted and cramped and tight, and that Alexander’s being choked with a sudden dose of reality. He can’t be mixing shit about the future in with this total mess that is his life. 

His heart feels like led when he sees the way Cornelia’s jaw starts to shake, the way she tries to stand tall, but can’t. He hates that he’s single handedly made her dissolve into such a state. Hates it even more that he knows she could never do the same to him— he wonders if he should feel guilty, knowing that she loves him more than he could ever feel for her.

“I know you’re hurting, but that gives you no right to lash out at me.” She’s right, he knows she’s right, but he can’t find it in himself to tell her as much.

“Alexander Hamilton, I love you.”

He doesn’t say anything, he never says anything when she makes those sorts of declarations, and suddenly it’s all just… It’s all just too much.

He opts to collect what’s been mailed to him, and retreat to the shitty apartment he’s never called home, leaving her in his wake.

 

~*~

 

~New York, New York: September, 2018.

 

“Daddy she was only trying to help.” Rosalyn pokes him in the chest, scoldingly. And Alexander doesn’t blame her for it.

“I know baby girl, but hey, I was a bratty teenager.” 

“Without a mom or daddy,” Rosalyn nods consolingly, patting his bicep like she was trying to comfort him. “’S okay daddy, at least mommy didn’t have to see you be such a big doofus.”

He cocks a brow at her, questioning. 

“Oh yeah, and how’d ya know that?”

Rosalyn just rolls her eyes at him, crossing the name Laurel off her little diagram without even a second thought.

“Daddy this is a love story! Everyone knows that the guy doesn’t end up with their first love! That’s like a practice round for the real thing, duh.”

Alexander chuckles, a little bit impressed, and a little bit terrified at her logic. 

“Yeah well I promised only ten minutes of this story thing, and it’s been half an hour. You’ve gotta go to bed Bug.”

“But daddy!” He just raises a hand in silence.

“No arguments Rosie.”

“”Ugh, fine.” She nestles back in her quilts, breaths evening out almost as soon as she shuts her lids, and Alexander could only smile down at her, cards a hand in her big curls before pressing a kiss onto her forehead and padding off to his own room.

Though he can’t fall to sleep nearly as easily as his daughter, long forgotten memories surging to the forefront of his mind, and playing out all over again.

 

~*~

 

Small Virginian Suburb of Washington DC: March, 2000

~*~

 

They don’t talk for nearly two weeks after that night. 

Alexander stuffs the letter back where he can’t find it (not letting himself pour over it’s contents for any longer) and spends his days placidly working at the paper, trying to be content with this life.

He feels guilty for how he spoke to Cornelia, but never picks up the phone to tell her as much. In the impartial words of Ned, he “Fucking sucks bro.”

But the thing is, if there’s one attribute he knows about Cornelia Lotts, it’s that she refuses to ever give up on him, it’s why he’s almost expectant when he finds her sitting outside his door— knees pressed to her chest and small, almost apologetic smile toying the edges of her thin lips, on the sixteenth night of their ultra silence. 

It feels like the parody of what’s inevitable the way he just cups his hands around her face before kissing her full on the mouth. A harsh cacophony of lips, and teeth and spit, that she eagerly returns ten fold. 

Cornelia locks her hands around Alexander’s neck, pulling him tight against her on this edge of ardent. And Alexander thinks that this is what mending should feel like… 

What it should feel like, too bad it doesn’t.

He hates that with every clash of their lips, his first thought is still dedicated to the letter that could change everything for him, and not on this girl who has always tried to ease his hurt.

 

~*~

 

The early winter breeze flutters through the open blinds, and tickles their naked skin.

Alexander unclasps her bra before peppering a series of kisses along Cornelia’s breasts, sliding a hand down to her ass. This would usually be the point where she let’s out a little gasp of a chuckle, writhing up in pleasure while tugging him closer, but instead, she seems to have gone rigid— tense even. 

He pushes back from where he was nuzzling the juncture of her neck and shoulder, to find Cornelia’s eyes brimming with wetness. 

“Woah! what the fuck,” He jumps back, heart pounding and feeling like he’s been burned. “Neli babe! What’s wrong!” 

He all but sprints to where she’s now moved to sitting up on the bed— blouse half hazardly pulled back on, and pretty face streaked with tears. 

“Hey, Nel, shh, it’s fine, everything’s fine, I promise. I’m here,” he wraps an arm around her wracking shoulders, a bit awkwardly, but feeling a fierce need to make her hurt dissipate. Absolutely despises the fact that he might be the cause for this pain. “I’m right here.”

“B-But that’s just it Alex!” She gags out, rubbing a hand over her tear stained eyes, and sniffling deep. “You’re not. Or well, you won’t be for long.”

Alexander freezes, utterly confused, but she doesn’t give him the chance to ask what in fuck’s sake she’s talking about because she’s already shuffling to the opposite wall, pulling something out of her purse that’s just out of his line of view. 

“Alex, I love you. And I know you love me too,” she swivels her gaze around, daring him to dispute her. 

He doesn’t. 

“”And well, if there’s one thing my parents have taught me… It’s that we do things that make the people we love happy, even if it kills us on the inside.”

Alexander stills, starting to understand her words, and feeling a wicked twist in his gut at the implication. 

“Lia… What’d you do?”

She sits on the bed besides him once more, interlaces their hands and swallows a sob before continuing. 

“George Washington is a remarkable candidate, he believes in the rights for women and he wants to create an open path of citizenship for immigrants and refugees. His voting record is progressive, and he has thoughts on the economy that I don’t necessarily agree with but I know that you do.” 

“Neli—“ He tries to interject, but she just shakes her head, doesn’t let him get a word in edgewise. 

“He’s amazing, and this’s a state wide position and he only just won the Democratic nomination but they already want him to speak at the DNC for Gore. They think he has a shot for the presidency himself, and seriously just from watching one of his speeches— I felt it, I felt it through a fucking computer screen.” She breathes in deep, shaking slightly but holding strong. “I actually know one of his policy consultants, Angelica Schuyler, we went to primary school together. I emailed her, explained the situation and she was so happy. They were really excited about you Alex, and she says Washington himself was disappointed when you didn’t contact them back, contemplated even calling you himself.”

“Neli, why?”

“Look Alexander, you deserve a whole hell of a lot of things I can’t even list right now, like family that appreciates and loves you the ways that I do, and you deserve people respecting you straight away because you’re a genius even if you’re a bit unkempt,” she titters while running a hand through his hair. “But most of all You deserve this chance Alexander, you were meant to take this position! Even if that means that you have to leave me behind” She averts her gaze, and Alexander can just barely catch her swiping away another round of tears.

“Thank you,” he says with a rasp, and she just smiles tepidly.

“I love you, and that’s why I bought you this,” she hands him a ticket for a buss from Union Station to Grand Central in New York.

Alexander just keeps on staring at her, equal parts amazed and astounded by her generosity.

“Thank you,” he hears himself repeat, but it still kind of feels like he’s levitating. “And us?”

She holds up the pads of her fingers to his lips, quieting him without words.

“Alex, it’s not that long of a trip. four hours at most.” Her mouth dips into a small, hopeful smile, kissing him on the cheek. “We can make it, ya know. If you don’t get all, pretentious politician on me, I get enough of that from my father.”

Alex actually laughs, kisses her with feeling, notices the way something in his chest blooms with hope for the first time in a long time.

She bites harder on his bottom lip and he gives her what she wants, so beyond grateful.

 

~*~

 

Saturday morning is bitingly cold and relentlessly windy— the exact antithesis to Alexander’s mild sensibilities from growing up in the always warm Caribbean. But he can’t help but smile on a day that could truly be the start of everything.

“Dude, I can’t believe you’re leaving!” Ned marvels, teeth chattering while they await the buss pulling up. 

“I’m gonna miss you, promise to write?”

“We have email now Darling,” Cornelia reminds him with a soft peck on the nose. 

“Oh right,” Alexander chuckles. 

“Just call, I probably won’t have the time to read your thousands of pages of writing.”

“Rude,” Alexander sniffs.

“Accurate,” Ned contends, the old friends smiling at one another before sharing another hug.

“Oh,” Cornelia perks, pulling out a small black book from her Coach bag. “I almost forgot to give this to you.”

“Ah, an address book?”

“Me and Ned filled it in with some of our friends in the area, ones who’d run in the same circle as you and all that jazz. You know so you have a safety net of folks up there who are already more than willing to meet up with you.”

“Though knowing you dude, you’ll probably have half of the city in the palm of your hand in a matter of weeks,” Ned interjects with a hardy smack to Alexander’s shoulder.

“And the other half?”

“Wanting to tar and feather you, but of course.”

Alexander laughs.

“Thank you guys, seriously, it means a lot.”

He kisses Cornelia again before flipping through the book, catching surnames that he recognizes from both their stories, and quite a few from the news cycle. He sometimes forgets how fucking connected they both are, it’s insane.

“Hey, this one just says the Schuyler sisters with three different initials?”

“Oh dude! My man, you don’t even know!” Ned smiles like a lune. “Think of the Kardashians, but like hotter, and not so narcissistic. Oh and they all go to ivy league schools.” His face goes dopey. “They’re like everything. You know I once asked out Eliza, the middle sister— like the Kim basically.”

“And?”

“Oh she shut me down like she should’ve, but i’m just saying… I spoke to her.”

“Charming,” Cornelia says flatly.

“C’mon Nel, you know. Everyone falls in love with at least one sister.”

“Ned, leave so I could say goodbye to my boyfriend in peace.”

He’s smart enough not to argue, just hugs Alexander one more time before going to the Starbucks to wait for her.

“The dummy is right you know,” she tells Alexander after he’s out of hearing shot. “Everyone falls in love with at least one Schuyler, and you’re even working with one of them now.”

“I’ll take caution,” he goads, kissing her cheek. 

“You better Alexander,” she huffs. “Now remind me, what’s the plan?”

“I work on Washington’s campaign while you finish up undergrad, you come to work on Wall Street while I go to law school in Colombia, and we live happily ever after.”

“Perfect,” she smiles as the buss pulls in. 

“Now remember to call every night and an email at least once a week, you never write me enough Alexander.” She chides, adjusting his collar and pursing her lips.

“Hey, Nel, it’s gonna be fine,” he reminds her, cupping a hand on her cheek. 

“Yeah, well it better be Alex.”

She kisses him before he bounds into the buss. 

He thinks this could be the real first chapter to his story, and he could barely contain himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so really quick, thank you so so so much to the gorgeous souls who actually read this, especially to those who left a comment!!! It means the world to me!!! I truly hope you liked this chapter, and I would be more than thankful if you left me a comment down below letting me know what you thought!!!
> 
> Some quick notes about the story so far…  
> First, just remember that I’m taking some liberties, obviously he’s not like speaking the naughty bits to his daughter, and the Laurel was on purpose cause render he’s switching up all these names for her lol  
> Second, it killed apiece of my soul comparing my queen, my love, my heart, Eliza to we’ll, erm… Kim Kardashian… But Ned’s a bit of a lovable douche, so yuh, forgive us lol.  
> Oh and, i Really wanted to reference Obama, but I forgot that this’s taking place twenty years ago lmfao… So yeah, maybe in the future chapters lol.
> 
> Again, it’d mean the galaxy to me if you let me know what you thought so far down below!!!  
> All My Love  
> ~Len
> 
> PS  
> If you miss Eliza as much as I do, I posted a oneshot about her and Alex too from a prompt I got on tumblr (@BetseyHamilton) lol

**Author's Note:**

> I am so excited to continue this! I really and truly hope you guys liked this prologue! And seriously if you guys let me know what you thought in the comments below it'd mean the entire world to me!! So truly, I'd be so grateful!
> 
> All My Love  
> ~Len


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